Walking in Dreams
by sweetprincipale
Summary: Early season 6. Buffy's body comes back in one piece, her mind a little less stable. Uncertain of reality, a sleep-deprived Slayer finds one thing she can cling to, waking or dreaming. Plenty of angst and stream-of-very-tangled-thought to begin with, but it has a sweet Spuffy ending.
1. Chapter 1

**Walking in Dreams**

 **by Sweetprincipale**

 _Early season 6. Buffy's body comes back in one piece, her mind a little less stable. Uncertain of reality, a sleep-deprived Slayer finds one thing she can cling to, waking or dreaming. Plenty of angst and stream-of-very-tangled-thought to begin with, but it has a sweet Spuffy ending._

 _Author's Note: All due credit to the writers and performers of "Hurt" for quoting the lyrics of that poignant song. I prefer the Johnny Cash version, and as one man in black to another, I think Spike would as well. If you've not heard it, I recommend listening while reading the ending section._

 _Author's Second Note: Thank you to those of you patiently waiting for more updates to Union, Timeless, and Waiting- THEY ARE COMING! No abandoning pieces here. Just a brand new baby in the house and it takes me about four days to write one paragraph. Hang in there, and keep sending the encouragement, it does help._

 _Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

 **Part** **I**

"Goodnight. Wake us if you need anything?"

"Yep. Night, Willow. Night, Tara. Goodnight, Dawnie." Buffy feebly collapsed against the door as it shut. _Thank God. Done with another day._

 _Not like night is easier._

They all thought she slept. She hadn't, not after the first time, when she woke them all with her screams. She stopped sleeping four days ago.

 _Humans can go for a week or something without sleep. Slayers can maybe make it two. Twice resurrected Slayers, what do you think? Three? Then what happens? Do I die, or just fall asleep? Pass out? Which option do I want?_

 _It doesn_ _'t matter. Because the main thing isn't what happens when I finally can't take it anymore, the main thing is just staying awake as long as I can. Because I can't take what happens when I sleep. Can't take it again._

Sleeping gave birth to surreal things that might actually have been real things, heaven, hell, this world- which one was the real world, the reality or the dream? Should she say nightmare? She couldn't tell anymore to begin with, and sleep was a cruel joke. Everything was a cruel, befuddled joke but sleep was the worst part, because she lost the ability to keep track of her carefully placed markers, the things she used to keep reality somewhat straight. She wasn't really sure what was _real_ , but she had ways to keep pretending based on where she was, _wherever_ the hell that was.

 _Even in my head the sentences stopped making sense. Soon I'll stop talking, and I'll be some thing they visit in a hospital. Which is a sort of hell inside a hell, and is this hell on earth, or just plain hell that looks like earth? Was heaven part of the hell package- you get a trip there, then have it torn away so you suffer more?_

She fell back on the bed, sprawled with her arms out, head thrown back. That was dangerous. She didn't let herself lay down, she usually sat at her desk chair, or paced with her silent steps, mindful not to wake the others.

Her eyes closed wearily. Another step into the quicksand. Sleep tugged. Blackness seeped in at the edges of her eyelids. She inhaled deeply… exhaled slowly… her mind shut off.

* * *

Buffy sat up with a gasp. Terror gripped her, and then relief. Had she fallen asleep for seconds, hours? No bad dreams occurred. But wait. Was she sleeping still?

 _Shit, shit, shit._ The terror was gripping her again and this time it wouldn't be cast off.

Buffy looked around the room. Sleep deprivation or sleep itself? What made the room seem blue-washed and blurry? What made sounds seem to echo and bounce? Sounds from the next bedroom over- soft sighs, giggles- Willow and Tara making love, just talking?

Or are those mocking laughs? Conspiring whispers?

 _Gotta get out of here. Gotta wake up!_ She pinched herself hard. It hurt.

She could have sobbed. Waking, sleeping, dead, alive, she was so used to everything hurting all the time that the pinch did no good. Nothing determined.

 _Maybe if I vomit. Can you vomit in hell? Or in your sleep? Or in dreams?_ She felt queasy enough to, that was a permanent state of affairs lately, like the pain, the dizzy, confused feelings…

 _So again, not going to tell me anything._

 _And I could go crazy sitting in here, trying to figure it out. Or I could start screaming, and if they run in and things change, like really change, that would clear it all up, right?_

 _Except for them figuring out I can_ _'t sleep. Me telling them why. Me out of control. Me being not me, just a Thing. Hospital. Hell._

She rolled to the floor, crept to the door, trying to find the doorknob with eyes that wouldn't focus. She fled.

* * *

The world was like a carnival. One you walked through in your nightmares. Hadn't that been her reality, though?

A sweet fall evening with a big full moon, and couples passed her without seeing her, even glancing at her. _I'm invisible. I don't exist here._

 _No._ They _don't exist in here. In my head. Hurray for dreams. I can just people watch. Look at all the normal._

She took in the sights. Mr. and Mrs. Middle Aged with their mini-van full of sleeping kids, on the way home from a vacation probably.

Young and in love, people kissing, holding hands.

And people everywhere ignoring the one- or was it two?- faces she saw that had yellow eyes manifesting out of human features. She could scream or she could run, or she could fight them.

 _But it's my dream. In my dream- maybe they don't even exist._

She slowly walked towards them.

* * *

"Slayer. Coming at us." A nudge of the elbow, a tilt of the head.

"Thought she was killed by Hellions." Eyes widened as the petite blonde seemed to walk towards them without blinking and apparently without thought for the traffic.

"They ripped her apart. She got back up."

"That had to piss her off."

"You wanna take her when she's pissed off?"

"Are you crazy? I'm not even that hungry. Let's run."

* * *

A pickup passed between her and the alleyway where the vampires taunted her. She moved, almost through it, and in a blare of horns that seemed more like a dim buzz, they were gone.

They were gone. Like she wanted.

Nothing hit her, and she was somehow across the street. Noises, lights, they were out of proportion.

 _I_ am _dreaming. Just stuck in the same old town._

 _I thought dreams would be better. More shopping. Or something._

 _Maybe that_ _'s all that I can dream about- looking at the place I used to be, am again without wanting to be. That and demons and vampires._

She stumbled. _Sleepwalking? What if I'm sleepwalking?_

 _Or maybe I_ _'m this tired in my dreams, too…_

 _Where would I walk to?_

* * *

 _This is predictable. I wonder if I_ _'ll have recurring dreams, and this is where they'll all end up? A cemetery._

 _Figures. Don_ _'t you dream about the places and things most often on your mind, or the places you spent the most time in?_

She turned slowly. There was mist pooling around her ankles. She rolled her eyes. Very appropriate for a nightmare- or as it turned out, just another scene from her life.

 _I wonder if I get to see people, too._

 _That would really be the nightmare_. She winced. _Dealing with people awake_ and _asleep._

Another vague turn, blinking through fuzzy eyes and a pounding head, stumbling along, then stopping.

 _Oh. Hey. This is Spike_ _'s cemetery._

She walked around the perimeter of the mausoleum twice. The Slayer was working through some thoughts, and was also wondering if reasoning abilities should seem this clear- muddled as they still were- if she was dreaming.

Thoughts like- _I see Spike every day. But he hasn't "talked" to me since that first night. I like that better than people being in my face, demanding I talk, open up, explain. Lie. Act grateful._

 _So is this a good dream, then? I_ _'m going to come see a person- well, vampire, who won't ask me to talk. Just looks at me. I look at him._

 _Yeah. That sounds good, right now._

Buffy's steps gained purpose and balance. She walked evenly to the door of the crypt and confidently pushed it open, smiling faintly. _This will work. Dead people hanging out together, in the dead people place, in quiet. Maybe I'll relax enough and I'll wake up without screaming._

* * *

Spike looked up, startled and yet he had no reason to be. He'd been expecting this for days, ever since she reappeared. His bottle tipped, boots crashed to the floor as he stood up, peering anxiously at the pale figure who'd materialized in his doorway.

 _Been expecting this. But- not_ like _this. Expected the avenging angel, the speech, accusations, reasons, righteous indignation. And I get a shadow._

"Buffy?" His voice quivered slightly, so full of pent up emotions, only able to get one word out.

She didn't even speak. Nodded slightly, came over to his chair and sat herself in it, dark-circled eyes wide and watching. Like she expected a performance.

 _Maybe that's it. She's not stupid. She knows I know, she knows this is what I'm waiting for, this what I deserve._

 _A performance. A final performance. She deserves that from me- and I deserve what_ _'s about to come next- from her._

* * *

 _See, this is nice. I come in. I sit. I can see Spike, and Spike doesn't speak. He lets me sit in the chair, and I just watch him. No one has to talk._ She sighed contentedly-albeit briefly. _Ew. Why don't my dreams come with smell-filtering?_ She could smell lingering smoke and a hot acrid splash of cheap liquor. _Oh right. He knocked over the bottle._ Her foot kicked the small puddle and it rippled _. Realistic._

An edge of doubt was creeping into her solid insistence that she was in a dream-world. _Wait- this is too clear for a dream. Right? Wait._ She began to open her mouth, questions in her eyes.

Which is when Spike seemed to come from nowhere, drop something into her hand.

A stake.

Heavy but not too thick, smooth. "I don't want this." Buffy blinked, confused, gripping it and releasing it, letting it roll to the floor with a clatter.

Spike swallowed. "However you want to do it, let's just do it." He whispered.

She stared blankly at him.

 _Right. Who am I to be calling the shots here?_ "Whatever you need to do- do it." His voice was no longer a whisper, but soft and strained.

 _What I need to do? What is he talking about?_ Her brain rebelled. _No!_ My _dream! I'm not doing anything. Whatever I need? I need to sit and no one is going to make me do_ anything _._ She stared through Spike, not at him. She resisted the urge to cross her arms. Too much effort for someone so tired.

That should have tipped her off. If she was already asleep, should she still feel so exhausted?

Spike stared back, but he couldn't get her eyes to join his. _Why should they? I don't even deserve for her to look at me. It's only a miracle that her eyes are open again. It's my fault they closed in the first place. I don't deserve anything, but this. A chance for her to make it right, make it happen- what should have happened in the first place._

 _I should have died. Not her. I failed to keep Dawn off the edge of the knife, and so the Slayer was sacrificed. She needs to be avenged. There has to be retribution. My promises don't mean shit anymore, and Dawn won't need me with the real hero back on duty._

 _The hero just sits. Not even able to bloody look at me._

But her face wasn't cold, or angry. Just impassive. Maybe she didn't know what to say. Maybe she had too much to say to speak at all. He tried to give her words.

"Slayer- Buffy…" Spike knelt in front of the chair, cold fingers somehow turning to ice as he tried not to fumble picking up the fallen weapon. "It's okay. I deserve this, and I know it. It's going to make things right. Hell, I'd have done it myself if I wasn't supposed to be here, keeping Dawn safe." He laughed shakily despite the wet gleam in his eyes as they lowered to the floor. She didn't speak. Still. "I'm sorry I failed you. Failed you both, and you paid for my mistakes. You gotta do this. Even the score. Balance things out." Before he could lose her nerve he forced the stake back into her hand. "You need to say something beforehand, you say anything you want. You need to…" He didn't finish his thought. She wouldn't make it hurt. She wouldn't toy with him or torture him. She wouldn't give him one last smile or, in his guilty, grieving mind, give one parting kiss that he in no way had earned.

"Please. I can't live with it anymore." _Knowing she died 'cause of me. And she's back, but in so much pain, and she could never forgive me. Never be like we were, whatever the hell it was._ "You end me."

* * *

 _Nope. See. This_ is _a dream. Ha, take that brain. Thought you fooled me. Like Spike would ever want to die. Like he'd want_ me _to kill him. Especially after I just got back. Spike is so happy I'm back. Spike doesn't want anything from me. He'd never ask me to kill him._

 _Unless he wants to die because living like this- in his own personal hell- is too much. I can relate to that._

 _No. Because I_ _'m back. He likes me being back._

Something was off. Unreal. Well, dreams weren't always accurate, even if they were so detailed and vivid. Buffy shrugged, barely moving her shoulders.

The slightest twitch made him tense, but he didn't move away. Waiting for her words, or her telling blow.

* * *

The stake left her hand. Hurled far with as much ease as if she was brushing off a gnat. "No."

Spike blinked at the wood went sailing past his shoulder. "No?"

 _In my dreams, I don't have to kill people. Especially not people I … I don't mind._ "I'm not going to kill anyone." Buffy said firmly, though her voice had a curious lilt to it Spike couldn't quite place.

"But I…"

"I said _no_." _Ah ha. See? In my life, you can't do that. Maybe the dream world isn't going to suck._

She doesn't understand, Spike thought. _She doesn't know how bad it is to exist around her, but know I can never… She'll never trust me again, little as she did, there was something. She'll never believe I love her. I'll have to live with the failures and the fears, and the memories of her dyin' in front of me. Buryin' her. Every night I saved her, stayed alive for those dreams… and then I woke up… find her still dead. Until one day last week._

"You don't want to?" He finally asked, still kneeling, head still bowed, a knight unhorsed.

"No."

"Don't you know I deserve it?"

"Is that what you want?" Her head swiveled slowly, like she was looking for clues as to how this dream thingy was supposed to play out. _Am I supposed to stake him? Well, screw it. I don't want to. And I really just want to go back to having quiet._

"I know what I ought to have, not what I _want_." Spike said sharply.

"If I give you what you want, then do you go back to letting me be quiet?"

What the fuck? He couldn't quite follow her train of thought. If she killed him, then he'd be ashes. Those were typically soundless and not at all bothersome. It was his turn to stare, to struggle for words.

"What do you really want?" Buffy repeated herself, and also spoke to herself. Dreams are full of symbolism and significant crap, especially when you're the slayer. She kept waiting for something to click, some magic words that would move her back into the happy part of this sleeping world, back to the sitting in relatively peaceful silence part, or send her down the road into a new nightmare.

"If I could have what I want- I want… wish you could forgive me." Spike whispered in a strangled voice, tearful and not caring. He'd cried for her, over her body, over her grave, in front of people who hated him and now sort of tolerated him. He had no qualms about crying in front of the living woman herself.

"Forgive you?" She repeated.

"But how could you? You died 'cause I couldn't keep Bit safe, and you had to make the final substitution. Died. 'Cause of me."

"No. Glory. I died because of her." Buffy argued factually. _Spike is crying. Spike is curling into a ball._ Her hand hesitantly reached out and patted his hair. His head jerked forward. _Feels so real._

"I broke the promise I made. I never… not one I made to you." He swallowed, speaking like his voice was broken.

"I don't think you could help it." _I break promises. So many promises. If that's like lying, I lived a lie, and I live one now. The only thing I blame anyone for is ripping me out of heaven._ "Did you bring me back?"

"No… I'm sorry, Slayer. I didn't know, or I… I don't know if it's the right thing to say, but I wouldn't have helped. Unless they promised me…"

"Promised?"

"That you'd stay. No matter what. Dead things come back different, I know that, I'm bloody proof of it. An' I wouldn't care what was changed, not if you didn't. I didn't know about them. I didn't know about this. So no. I didn't bring you back, didn't even lift a finger to try. Just kept wishin'… in my head. That I'd saved you. Every night I saved you. Least in my dreams, I did."

"Dreams are supposed to be good." Buffy mumbled. _He saved me. That made him happy. He wanted me to kill him 'cause he didn't save me for real- what's real again? Never mind. I don't kill in here. Maybe I can make his dream happy- in my dream. Maybe our dreams are connected?_

Spike saw her suddenly clutch her head, pain in every feature, and he instinctively went to reach for her, support her. His hand fell back down, head returned to its perch in humility.

"If I forgive you, that would make you happy?" She stumbled over her words, tongue too heavy, brain too slow.

"Of course! Second best thing in the world you could ever give me!" He exclaimed, eyes suddenly meeting hers, shining. For a second. "But this isn't about me." He reminded her gently.

 _That's right. My dream. I'm not mad at Spike. He tried his best. He lost a battle, and well, so did I._ "I can forgive you. I don't even think you did anything wrong." Buffy whispered. "Not that night. Not s-since I came back."

Spike simply stared. "Say it again." He finally requested.

"I forgive you." _I can't forgive the others right now_. "For whatever stuff you think you did." His eyes glowed, his face seemed like it would crumple in relieved tears- and she would hate that. The noise and the emotion… "On one condition."

"Name it." _Take my head, take my arm, take anything you want, I owe it all._

"You let me sit in your chair and you keep it quiet until I wake up."

"I can do that." Spike nodded firmly.

"Thank you."

"Thank you." He rose unsteadily. "You go ahead an' fall asleep. I'll keep it quiet as you like."

Buffy nodded. _Wait. "Go ahead and fall asleep"? But I_ am _asleep. No, this is dream me and dream me isn't, so dream Spike would say something like that._

Her head spun. Edges blurred, like they'd been doing ever since she woke up in hell that turned out to be earth, a place she once considered home. This state of dreaming had been the least awful so far.

 _Can you sleep in your dreams? I bet that_ _'s when you wake up. Like when you fall and just before you hit the ground you-_ Her thoughts stopped. Last time she'd been falling, there'd been no waking up, no "It's only a bad dream" relief when you wake.

 _Don_ _'t think about that. Anyway, I don't want to wake up right now. I just want to have the chair, and Spike keeping everything loud out of my head. No sleeping in my sleep._

"Can you sit next to me?" She heard herself ask.

"Of course." Spike blinked and immediately sat beside her, squatting on the stone floor alongside his chair. "I can be dead quiet."

"No. Not dead quiet." Buffy's voice was hollow, but the response was immediate. "Dead is… confusing."

"Just an expression, Luv." He whispered, voice reflexively pitched to soothe. "Just meant, I'll give you whatever you need." _Whatever I can give._

Hysteria threatened to bubble up and out, but exhaustion tempered it to one long, convulsive shudder. _Like anyone can give me that. Like I know what that is, or would be. I just want- just_ need _\- to stay sane. To be safe here. The dreamworld. Closest thing to heaven I have left, right now, and it could go to hell real fast._

"I'm not surprised you don't trust me to try an' do that for you." The vampire twisted his fingers round themselves in a nervous gesture, voice showing the same kind of strain. "Why should you? I wouldn't- but then, you do all the things I can't do, Buffy. Big heart in the big hero." He smiled, words genuine, no mockery, but no pressure either. Only simple recognition. Gratitude.

Buffy relaxed, the tension of keeping up the facade ebbed, she stopped trying to control the balance of reality vs. insanity. "You know, it's funny. In here, I'm calling all the shots, but you're the one doing everything right. I don't know what you're doing- but it's working." She frowned. _If this is my dream and I'm doing what I want, I should be able to tell what's coming, what he's doing, what I want him to do. But everything happens… whatever happens, I'm not in control of it._

 _That_ _'s one thing that stays the same, no matter where I go._ She blinked and tears seeped out. _Huh. Feels wet._ She stared at a drop she caught on her fingers- until other fingers slowly came up and crept between hers.

"Are these real tears?" Buffy asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

In answer he dragged her hand across his face, and she jumped at the contact.

 _Wet. Real_. Buffy's breath seemed to vanish.

"Real as mine." Spike answered, own chest seeming tight.

"Dead things cry, too." A confused voice of realization.

"You an' I can be very much alive, don't matter what labels people slap on us." His voice brittle, swallow coming hard on its heels. "But it gets messy, doesn't it? This life after death stuff. Confusin'? Out of control?"

 _This might be real. Might be a dream. Seems like I'd have to be dreaming to have someone get it, say what I can't say, can't tell anyone. He's in my head. Well, duh, dreams are in your head, so he's in my dream after all._ "So hard… Too fast, not fast enough. Can't keep track sometimes." She admitted, eyes suddenly blurred.

"Know the feeling." Being near her had confused him for so long, how he should act, what he wanted to be, how he could win her or possess her, until it boiled down to sheer bloody gratefulness alone that she was back. Miracle- that she'd forgiven him, spared him. He would always love her, even if she could never love him back.

"Do you know what to do?" Buffy's worn voice asked him, breaking the spiral of his thoughts.

"Not a hundred percent. Try to get by. Try to ease the pain. Find somethin', someone to help if you can." His smile was somber as he made his offer. "You got me to help. I'll stay right here, you rest. That's what you wanted, yeah?"

"But not fall asleep. If I fall asleep in here, I'll wake up." Buffy shook her head.

Confusing as hell, but he didn't show it. Carefully asked, with a neutral tone, "You don't want to wake up?"

 _Not wake up. Eternal sleep. That's what it sounds like I mean. Maybe that is what I mean._

When she didn't answer, he felt a coil of sickness spreading inside him. _She's dyin' again. Not a heroic leap, a slow suffocation. Buried alive she was, buried alive she is again._ "Hold on, Slayer." Spike didn't want to push, but he didn't know what else to say, heart too full to stay silent.

"I don't know if I want to. Or what's real enough… to hold on to." Buffy let her hand reach out and swim through the foggy air her heavy eyes made out. She blinked when she hit something solid. _Spike._

"Right here." He reiterated.

"Maybe I just don't want to anymore." She could confess that. In here.

He swallowed over the noose-like tightness in his throat. "I don't have the right to ask you to."

He didn't demand. Didn't expect. Just wanted. Dreams are good for that, I guess, Buffy thought.

"If you let go, I'm still gonna hang on. I'll always be wishin' I could have hung on to you." Spike's lips twitched in a ghost of a sad smile. "For now, you wanna let go, I guess here's as good a place as any. Cry, scream, throw things about. Sit and stare, noises off."

"Thank you." Buffy murmured, and oddly enough, found she meant it. For the first time since she'd been back, she meant it. _No. Second time. The first time was with him too. When he knew what hurt my hands and didn't make me say it. When he knew how to make the pain stop and didn't make a big deal._

 _In this dream, Spike knows what to do. And I- don_ _'t. So I let go. And he hangs on._ "You tell me what to do for now. You make feel better."

He blinked. "I do?"

"Yes." Simple statement of fact, and then black edged eyes that were in such a worn, thin face, stared at him with a faint flicker of hope.

"Uh. Right." More than he'd hoped for. She forgave him, She trusted him to try to help. She was in pain, and he knew it had to do with being here, alive, though he didn't claim to know the specifics. "You wanna lay down?" Frantic head-shaking, and the hope seemed to fade. "No, no, you said that. Not gonna sleep. Just gonna rest. An' I'm gonna stay here and keep things quiet. Not dead quiet, peaceful quiet."

A relieved nod. "That sounds really good."

* * *

She sat. Her head would bob as if sleep were about to consume her, and like the fighter she always was, she'd give herself a hard shake and force herself to stay awake.

About the tenth time this happened, Spike finally asked, "What d'you think happens if you sleep, Buffy?"

"I wake up. Out there. In the real world. The Hellmouth world. And when I slept the last time, I woke up screaming, everyone was scared, looking at me, waiting for me to say it's okay. To lie, because it isn't okay. _Nothing_ is okay. So, I don't sleep. I was … I can't keep nightmares and reality apart. This is an okay dream. I haven't slept since the first night I came back." _Safe to tell the dream man. Safe…_ She settled back in the chair.

"Dream? Now?"

"This. Now."

"Luv… why would you dream about me?" He asked very carefully, mind panicked. _She thinks she's dreamin' and I know she's not. She's goin' mad, and I'm good with madness, but I don't wish it on anyone. Not her, especially not her. Was this like sleepwalking, and weren't you supposed to avoid waking a sleepwalker?_ If he made her see this was the waking world, would he snap her mind, already teetering on the break?

"Because I can only dream about things from my life. And tonight's a good dream. Okay enough dream, anyway. You're the only one I don't mind talking to now. So I ended up here, with you. And it's working. The nightmares haven't gotten in and I haven't woken up screaming."

"Don't you think you'd - don't you think I would know all this, if this were a dream an' I was in it?"

"It's my dream. I'm allowed to do what I want, say what I want. Tell secrets. Not kill. Not fight." Her voice was fainter on each word, and coming more slowly.

"You could do that awake, Buffy. I'd stand by all that." He prodded gently.

"Yeah. You might. I don't know about the others. They want Buffy back."

"And you are?" His chest tensed. _Dead things come back different… Sometimes just the body, different characters inside. But this is her. Just- something off about her. Not that it makes me love her any less._

"I'm Buffy. But I'm also Dead Girl Walking. I'm heaven's reject, I'm hell's favorite punching bag. I'm exhausted and I can't act anymore, which must be why I finally crashed."

"Or you think you did." He took her hand and squeezed. "Feel that?"

"Mmhmm. Feel this too." She took her fingers and neatly dragged them over her forearm. Tiny ridges of white appeared.

"Easy, Luv!"

"I tried to figure out if I hurt . If I'm awake or asleep. I figured out- that I can't tell. Awake, asleep, I'm numb or I hurt all the time, everywhere. I think I like numb better, only then you start to worry people. 'Cause you can't act for them anymore. Buffy in pain at least remembers the drill."

 _Oh my God. My Slayer. My Sunshine. What did they do to her? What can I do for her?_

"Am I allowed to make you feel, if I don't make you hurt?" Spike asked after a moment.

She hesitated. "Feel what?"

"Anything. Anything you want."

"I just … want to feel like I felt before."

"Before you passed?"

She hesitated, then shook her head. "Before they brought me back. Where I was done fighting. And I was safe. There was warm stuff all around me, inside me, outside of me, and I knew I was safe. Nothing was going to hurt me anymore, and … and they loved me. Just being done, not being anything anymore, they still loved me. No one to save. No one to fight. No one to let down." Tears had slowly risen to the surface of her eye, and now they cascaded down. "Please. If you can make me feel that, or anything close to it… That's what I want to feel."

* * *

He didn't know how it happened. _Tried to tell her this was real. Said it over and over, this might be a dream to you, Buffy, but it's real. Awake. I'd be there in your dreams, be there in your waking world, you've got to believe me._

Blank stares. Her reiteration. "That's what he'd say. Spike is weirdly the same, no matter what reality I'm in."

He wanted to growl in frustration. _I_ _'m him. He's me. This is- not getting through._

He stopped trying. _She doesn't need the strain of arguin', goin' round and round with me, while she gets more and more word down, looks more broken, more confused, more sick with every passing, blurry-eyed glance._

Spike slid his arms around her hips, head in her lap, and waited until he felt her shudder and let herself sink under his touch. He rose up, she slid down, until she sat halfway across lap on the floor, her back against the bottom of the chair, head on the seat of it. Her blank eyes were staring at the stone ceiling. He put one arm round her shoulders and rocked, sending feelings of warmth at her, wishing his body knew how to create heat without fighting or shagging.

The rocking turned to swaying with humming. Whispering little comforts. He didn't sing anymore. He'd sung lullabies to Dru. Slayer didn't need a lullaby, she needed a rallying cry, an anthem that she could still march to, while knowing she wasn't alone in this battle.

"Even if you changed… Still love you. Always." Spike whispered thickly. She looked startled for a second, and then her face returned to that clay-like blankness. "That's real. Not a dream. Do you know that? Can you believe that?" _Don't push, don't push._

 _I have to push this much. I have to tell her. Unless- in case- this is my only chance, the last chance, the chance I should have had, shouldn_ _'t have had._

* * *

The first words of the song made her twitch in his arms. Shudder and gasp.

 _I hurt myself today_

 _To see if I still feel_

 _I focus on the pain_

 _The only thing that's real_

* * *

 _Tell him no, not a song about pain. No one knows this pain._ Her mouth opened once, and gulped down words instead of letting them escape.

 _The needle tears a hole_

 _The old familiar sting_

 _Try to kill it all away_

 _But I remember everything_

* * *

 _Hard to sing if you_ _'re crying._ He didn't know if she could tell that the waver in his voice was the sobs he was holding in, not the fact that he hadn't sung in almost five years.

 _What have I become_

 _My sweetest friend_

 _Everyone I know goes away_

 _In the end_

She looked at him. He wasn't looking at her now, looking down, tears trickling out, falling over lips still working to bring out this song. _My sweetest friend. Is that me?_

 _Does she know that_ _'s her? That I- that I never minded immortality until I knew I'd be alone, without her, at one point?_

* * *

 _And you could have it all_

 _My empire of dirt_

 _I will let you down_

 _I will make you hurt_

* * *

 _I don_ _'t want that anymore._

 _I don_ _'t want to give her that anymore. But that's- that's all I might be able to give, when she's breaking like she is, an' I'm already broken like I am._

"Spike?"

* * *

 _I wear this crown of thorns_

 _Upon my liar's chair_

 _Full of broken thoughts_

 _I cannot repair_

 _Beneath the stains of time_

 _The feelings disappear_

 _You are someone else_

 _I am still right here_

He kept singing. Ignored the hesitant, waking tone in which she said his name.

"Spike?" Her hand reached for his chin.

 _What have I become_

 _My sweetest friend_

 _Everyone I know goes away_

 _In the end_

He met her eyes. _Goes away in the end._ Captured her hand and didn't let go.

 _And you could have it all_

 _My empire of dirt_

 _I will let you down_

 _I will make you hurt_

"No." _No, he wouldn't. No, I don't want it. No… I don't think I'm dreaming. I can't feel his sobs in my sleep, only my own._

 _If I could start again_

 _A million miles away_

 _I would keep myself_

 _I would find a way_

Silence throbbed when the words ended.

 _He has a good voice._

 _I should have sang something better. Different._ "Slayer?" He finally answered her.

"Don't - keep yourself away." Buffy shook her head.

"Sweetest friend." He kissed the fingertips he still had hold of. "You could have it all- all I have. An' if I can find a way- _any_ way to do anything you want, you know, don't you, that I'd do it?"

She nodded. _I felt something. Something that- didn't hurt. It was sad. It was- pain that's like missing, not pain that you feel in your body. In your heart. He makes me feel something. Pain that- pain that comes when you have to hurt yourself one more time, for a reason you don't mind…_

"I ended up here because I missed you. I don't know what that means, in reality, in dreaming. I missed you and I don't want to go away again, if I have to miss you, now that I know - that I can feel what missing being around you is like. I can't let go of that."

Spike was too stunned to speak at first. "You sure of what you're saying?" He finally managed to ask in a torn voice.

Not entirely. But there were things she was certain of. "You do what they can't."

"They don't love you like I do."

* * *

 _To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Walking in Dreams**

 **by Sweetprincipale**

 _Early season 6. Buffy's body comes back in one piece, her mind a little less stable. Uncertain of reality, a sleep-deprived Slayer finds one thing she can cling to, waking or dreaming. Plenty of angst and stream-of-very-tangled-thought to begin with, but it has a sweet Spuffy ending._

 _Author_ _'_ _s Note:_ _I couldn't wrap it up in two chapters, so looks like this will be a three-part piece. This section picks up immediately following the last installment._

 _Author's Second Note: Thank you to those of you patiently waiting for more updates to Union, Timeless, and Waiting- THEY ARE COMING! No abandoning pieces here. Just a brand new baby in the house and it takes me about four days to write one paragraph. Hang in there, and keep sending the encouragement, it does help._

 _Dedicated to: WriterDragonfly, Ginar369, RPfan1976, Illusera, LakitaLover, Notashamedtobe, TessLouise, Jhiz, vampyre-lover, and my long lost, recently returned friend, Cavemenftw._

 _Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

 **Part** **II**

 _They don't love me like he does. And how would that be? Real or dreaming, how does that work?_

 _Also wait._ Spike. _Spike and love and me- not really mixy things, right?_

 _Oh, screw it._

He saw her stop, mentally spinning in place. _Pull her free._ "Look, if this is a dream, doesn't matter who loves you, does it?" He asked desperately.

"But… it isn't, is it?" Buffy replied slowly.

 _Lying would be so helpful right now. In the short haul. I want her to trust me for longer than that._ "We're awake, Luv." He nodded, part of him pleased she was finally with him, conscious of the fact, and part of him wishing that he could walk in her dreams with her, fight off the nightmares, save her like he had in his own, make sure she had nothing but happy endings, or happy new beginnings.

"I still couldn't tell. For sure. Until you sang."

He ducked his head. "Too awful to sleep through?"

"Too beautiful for me to come up with. I think I can only dream … ugly things. I should have known when I saw you it wasn't a dream."

"Pretty then, am I?" He managed a half grin.

"You make the ugly in the world seem less. I don't know how. I really don't. Evil and vampire and all the hell you put me through sometimes… you were part of the ugly, at first, but not anymore, I guess. You -say the right stuff. Do the right things. The others try so hard. I know I should try just as hard for them, but-"

"But you're tired, Slayer. You did your job." _I failed in mine_. "You earned that rest."

"Guess I didn't earn very much." _So tired. So, so tired._

"Hey. Them bringing you back is about what they did, not what _you earned_. What they wanted, needed, not about you. I know they thought you'd want to come back. Thought it was some sort of rescue, returnin' you home." Her eyes never seemed lively for long, and they switched back to dead, faded again. "Cavalry screwed up, didn't they?" Spike asked softly. She didn't answer, but then, her silence was answer enough.

 _I always tried to save them. I tried and I gave- gave my life at the end, to save them. And they tried to save me- and hurt me so much worse than I can even describe. They can't fix it, without all of us hurting more. And even if I died again, it's kind of a crapshoot now. I could get brought back from heaven or hell, it looks like. And I could go through al this again. So any way I think about it, this is what I'm stuck with._

 _Even staying awake forever doesn_ _'t change this. I'm back- and I can't go back. It's sounds weird, but that's true. I'm here. Where everything always hurts and no one is supposed to know you're in pain._

 _There_ _'s no waking up, it's not even a bad dream this time._

She shattered inside, and outside in his arms, sobbing, shaking.

"Shhhh. Shh, I got you, I got you." Spike wrapped his arms around her, pulled her head down under his and rocked, like sheltering from an explosion.

"Can't… get out." Buffy clutched at the sides of her head. She was claustrophobic. Waking up in a coffin was the worst kind of torture they could give her- she thought. Until her very brain started to box her in. "Can't get out!"

"I'll build you a door. Where you wanna get to?" Spike answered automatically.

"N-no. No, I'm not dreaming, there isn't a way out of here, there's just here- whatever this is, this hell-earth sideshow and I'm _stuck here_! You can't pop a door in and suddenly I can get out!"

"You want to leave this place?"

"I want the pain to stop! I want it all to stop, and it's in my head and I-" Her words died with a gasp as his lips crashed down onto hers. Frantic, hungry, tear-stained kisses, smothering her for a second before pulling back to demand-

"Did that hurt?" He asked wetly, breaking off the sudden action.

"No." Startled into automatic reply, she shook her head, eyes wide.

"I can make it all stop- for a little bit at a time. If you let me… if you let me just love you." _This is a terrible way to tell her I love her. To give her any kind of love._

 _Well, maybe it's when you need it the most, when it feels the worst._

"Love me?" Buffy blinked hazily.

"Yeah. I do."

Her mind did send out a little ping of "Pain _did_ stop" before it tried to untangle what was happening. "Do you mean- have- I mean, make-… what do you mean?"

"Let me be there for you, help you, give you a place to rest and wake you up if you start to scream. Sing you to sleep. Be whatever you need that I can be. Make pain stop any way I can."

 _He hasn't hurt me. Everyone else- even without meaning to, they hurt me. He kinda helps._ "Not hurt."

"That's right." He nodded. He didn't care that she was sounding less and less lucid, seeing little cracks come out that she'd been hiding so well around everyone else. "Whatever I do, won't hurt you. Would never hurt you. Never again, an' you forgave me - for all the rest. If it still stands, that is. I'd understand if you took it all back, knowin' you're awake."

"No, that doesn't change anything from earlier." She met his eyes and shifted away, almost shyly, but he knew it wasn't bashfulness making her retreat inside herself.

 _Don't, Slayer. Sounds like inside that pretty head is one bad time just now._ He had already held her, kissed her, and mixed his tears with hers. Spike extended his hand anyway, a gesture that asked for her trust, for her to grab him and hold on. _Stay with me, out here with me. You can fall all to pieces, but if you let me have a little piece of you, I can try to stop the fractures from spreading. Maybe there will be one little bit of you the pain can't touch, if I take it for you._

Buffy stared at the hand held out. Strong and smooth, hands that had hit her, and hit for her, to defend her and her family. Hands that had given her tools to take her retribution, wrapped around her, and wiped her tears. _Hold on to him. He won't hurt me. He's the only one who knows how not to, right now._

"I believe you. I don't care if I'm awake or asleep. Just believe either way- you don't wanna hurt me anymore…" She took the hand with a hard squeeze, and then, seemed to go limp. Exhaustion was finally defeating the world's greatest warrior.

"You're right. Let me get you comfortable." Spike pulled her gently up, and staggered down to snag her under the knees when she toppled. "Oh, Slayer…" _My Slayer._

"Did you carry me- after I fell?" She murmured, eyes blinking more rapidly more now, fading.

"N-no." His voice hit a snag. "D'you remember that little git, he pushed me off before- before you. Broken bones. Too many to carry anything. The Watcher, he carried you." He didn't say "your body". "Wished I could pick you up and hold you, jus' couldn't right away." Didn't say he was sobbing too hard to pick up anything anyway.

"You're carrying me now."

"Carry you as long as you want, anywhere you want to go."

"Don't have to feel guilty." Buffy shook her head, hearing all his offers, so much kindness.

"Bloody well do, but that's not what I say it. Say it 'cause I love you. Love picks up the slack. Love carries. Love defends. Love lets you be stupid and lose all your pride."

"Am I being stupid?" She puzzled aloud.

"No, Luv. _Me._ Only a fool in love would think he might get - might get another chance with you after what he'd pulled. But your big heart does all the work, Slayer." He lightly rested his head to hers, just for a second. "And so love is what I have, and what I got to give, an' love's what lets me carry you as long as you need the lift." He concluded gently.

Buffy nodded gratefully, and for once she didn't think she needed to respond. _Spike understands._

"You let me watch over you? Just an hour or two?"

"While I - sleep?" Buffy stared at the face above her, now two faces, her vision spotting and beginning to split.

"If you fall asleep, sure."

 _Say no. Not safe. Not unsafe with him, unsafe in my own head. Can't keep track…_

 _I couldn't keep track to begin with._ Fighting was getting to be an impossibility. "You tell me where I am when I wake up?" Buffy made one final request, breathing shallow.

So shallow it scared him. Hadn't Angelus tortured some humans this way, keeping them awake until they had some sort of seizure, physical collapse, died when they couldn't force their bodies to endure one more second awake? Was she driving herself to the same fate? "That's right- that's right." He lifted her up more, hitching her tighter to him, suddenly realizing she felt lighter than she should. _Bet she stopped eating right, too._ "Look, Luv, I don't have any right to ask for a favor, but- I'm gonna ask. I'll tell you where you are when you wake up, but you gotta promise me- that you _will_. Wake back up." He swallowed hard.

"I don't make that promise anymore." She shook her head. He nodded, resigned, his chin falling to her hair. His cheek wasn't warm against her, but it felt- somehow- alive. Strengthening. "I promise… I'll try."

"Thank you, Slayer. Thank you." He said fervently, trying to tame the break in his voice. He coughed, then attempted to get his voice to lighten up a bit. "All right. Gonna take you down where you can stretch out, have a pillow, a blanket. I can speak from personal experience, the chair up here's no delight for the spine. You deserve better. An' you've already been down there once, but- it's not gonna be like that now, never again. Safe place, I promise." No response. "Buffy?"

"Trust you…" Her eyes closed- and stayed that way.

* * *

He felt sick. The eyes closed and staying closed, too familiar in such a terrible way. Feeling her breathing was the only thing that kept him from screaming, spinning into his own nightmare, that had been his reality. "It's okay. It's okay, just asleep. Needs some sleep." He repeated this like a mantra, carrying her down, hesitating before putting her on his bed.

Spike stood back and looked at her for a minute. A fantasy in earlier days, Buffy in his bed. And now- the darker side of reality. _She's so still._ Watching Dru sleep had been an exercise in motionlessness, his pale, perfect princess. This simply felt wrong, dread rising up in him as he watched. "Breathe for me, Slayer. Keep breathing." He ordered in a gritty voice. The shallow rise and fall of her ribcage rewarded him. The comforting sound of her pulse made him sigh in relief- then prick up his ears. _Unsteady pulse. Sign of getting near the edge, things startin' to break down in a human body, even a supernaturally strong one._

Another hesitation, and then he moved around behind her as she lay on her side, sinking slowly onto the mattress. "Look, if you wake up right now, don't tear me apart, Slayer. Innocent motives, I promise." He muttered to her form. She twitched slightly. "Right, s'posed to keep you calm. Comfy." He started to hum, soothing little sounds. _Said I'd sing her to sleep._

 _Said I'd wake her up if she started screaming_. He slid down beside her, head behind hers, but raised on his curled elbow so he could look down and watch her face. "Y'know, Luv, there's another reason you came here, whether you know it or not. _Vampire_." He listened to the tired pulse and the steady resting heartbeat. "I can wake you up _before_ the screams start."

* * *

This was different. Fragmented. Clearly a dream, she had no doubt and no tricky mental acrobatics of questioning what was dream or reality.

Faces popped in and out of a cloudy fog, only faces. Easy to tell you're dreaming when bodies go missing. "Well, good." Buffy felt a momentary satisfaction in her dream state.

Only she didn't like what words came out of the faces. They weren't clear, they were rapid and garbled, some pleading, some accusatory. All chanting her name, demanding something, asking something. One face kept whirling by in the rotation, simply silent, big blue eyes watchful, waiting. Patient.

Loving. Yes, they were, and even in the fractured state she was in she could see that.

* * *

Spike bit his lip. The heartbeat was speeding up. Racing. Time to wake her. Been an hour now. _Do you shout her name? Shake her? Lay the wrong hand on a Slayer and end up missing your bloody arm._ "Buffy." He whispered. The heart rate slowed marginally. "Buffy?" A bit louder, lips almost to her ear.

"Mm?" A sleepy flicker of sound between lips.

"You okay? You were dreamin', or gettin' panicked or something."

A groan this time. His features matched hers, pained, confused. His hand landed on her arm gently. "I've got you. You're - safe. On solid ground, remember, promised I'd let you know where you were. Here you are, above ground, land of the livin'." _Well, technically we're in a basement. In a cemetery. Land of the dead, below ground. Technicalities don't matter right now, I hope._ He shook off the staccato sentences he was spitting out in his haste to reassure and went back to the fundamentals. "Slayer, I got you."

The groans faded, the pain left her face, replaced with mild confusion, but not unhappily puzzled. "Spike?"

"Yeah, right here." He laid fingertips only on her shoulder, releasing the steady pressure he'd put on her arm now that she was coming out of it.

"Spike who treats me like they don't." She murmured.

"Loves you like they don't." He couldn't help but push for a better moniker, better reminder.

She rolled, onto her back, into him, startling him into beginning to back away. She held him fast when her eyes opened, tired as she was her survival instincts were still sharp. She had something she was clinging to to stay alive, and it just so happened to be him. Eyes followed those surprisingly strong fingers. Unfocused at first, then laser-locked on him. "Here."

"Right here." He vowed.

"No. _Come here_." Drooping arm coming out, over his shoulder, pulling him down to her lips.

Shock, joy,- realization. _She's kissing me. She- she doesn't know what she's doing. I should stop her._

 _In a minute._

He was saved from the moral dilemma when her arm fell from his back and her head slumped to the side. Asleep again. Peacefully.

"Ordinarily I wouldn't be flattered, Slayer. My kisses puttin' you to sleep. But- we'll call this a Sleepin' Beauty gig in reverse. Huh? Only true love's kiss can break the spell and put you to sleep." He grinned down on her as he whispered, letting himself have this stolen moment in a fairytale that wasn't really going to work. Probably, at least for now. "Maybe one day you'll want me to do it while you're properly awake." The grin twisted, heart aching through it. "Maybe."

* * *

This time sleep held her longer- and he was the reason. His arms finding their way around her mirrored, or maybe caused, the prolonged rest. Actually (at least partially) restful this time.

She was not walking now. Driving. Again, she knew it was dream. She couldn't drive, not like this, smoothly. The panic that usually came when she got behind the wheel, knowing her driver's training was never quite complete, was absent. Cars were bad things for her. Something basic, and normal, and everyday- and something she couldn't deal with. Like her life.

The heartbeat spiked sharply, she made a sudden sound of worry.

* * *

"Hang in there. Hang in there, you're doin' okay." Spike's voice hit her ear as her dream began twitching into the darker categories. She was sleeping, but he was not. He was on duty, and he was going to save her. _This_ time. "I've got you this time."

* * *

"You can do this, you know." Buffy found her reflection in the rearview mirror. Speaking to her, while her own lips never moved.

Ordinarily that would have been creepy, but in her dream she accepted it and replied, "I'm going to crash. I'm crashing, I can't… I can't do some things, normal life things. Life is hard, it's too hard, especially after you've gotten out of it once."

Her reflection tsked as it informed, "You might crash, but you're not going to die this time. You're not going to get hurt."

"How can you say that? You're _me_! You know this hurts! It never stops hurting!" She jerked the wheel sharply, and felt a physical, answering tug as her sleeping body made a violent spasm.

"Call it good safety features. Look at your seatbelt."

"My…" She trailed off, looking down. A strong arm, instead of a strap. Not hers. Over her shoulder, a second across her waist. Impossibly strong looking, and yet they weren't crushing her.

"You want to protect everyone. He wants to protect you. Because you both know, that one day you'll wake up- you'll really be 'back', and it'll hurt, and it'll make you tired- but you'll still want to do it. You want to protect them."

Another half-seizure, another feel of the "belt" tightening. Securing her. "I don't want to do anything for anyone right now." Buffy ground out, fearful of her honesty, even to herself.

"But you still love them. And they love you."

No answer. True, but too much anger and incredulity and the cosmos-shattering stunt they'd inadvertently pulled on her blocked her words.

"But he loves you differently. They don't love you like he does. And guess what, Buffy?"

She tore her eyes from mirror and back to the road- when had the road gotten so high, so much like a roller coaster track leading higher up to a tower, so - so abruptly ending? She felt her foot slam down, but the car sped up, refused to stop.

"I said, 'guess what Buffy'." The voice wasn't taunting, but it was insistent.

"What, what?" She screamed, knowing how this ended, the fall, the pain, the peace- and then pain a million times worse when someone ripped it away.

"You need love- you need something different- or you're right. You _will_ crash all over again."

The road ended, the car took flight, and her reflection was once more just her own frightened, pained face.

* * *

An intake of air, long and shuddering, the "preparing to empty lungs in a scream" sound he knew intimately.

"No!" Spike snatched her up and awake, harsher than he meant to. "God dammit, Buffy, I will not break another promise to you! Hard as you bloody are to wake, I _will_ wake you up before your screams start, and I will not let anything hurt you, in your head or in this world, an' if I could help it, in the next!" He growled and glowered, face a map of desperation and pain. "You're here, with me, and you're safe!" He shook her shoulders as her eyes snapped open and the scream choked itself into nothingness. She looked at him with terrified eyes, and he released her, the fury of his protectiveness disappearing, replaced with apology and a different kind of pain. _That probably didn't make her feel too bloody safe, you idiot. Screaming her awake so she doesn't scream in her sleep? Putting your hands on her like you'll tear her apart so some nightmare beast won't get the chance?_

"Slayer. Slayer, I'm so sorry, Luv." _She needs me. I need her. How can I do this without screwin' up again? She didn't want to end me, I don't want to make her think she should have, even if- part of me still thinks she should have._

Buffy looked at him fuzzily, breathing regulating as her mind tried to make statements that made sens _e_. That part may have failed. "Were your arms around me?"

He inclined his head once. Almost guiltily. _Shouldn't have touched her. Touched her while she was sleeping. Without her knowing. Although she kissed me, and I've got no soddin' idea if she "knew" that or not._ "Yeah. Figured… it might help somehow."

"To keep me from crashing." Buffy nodded. "The seatbelt." She nodded again, more fervently.

"The what?"

"Do it again. Do it out here. For real."

"Luv, I _was._ Out here, for real. Not a dream. While you were asleep, I thought it helped- comfort you or settle you or somethin'. You slept a lot longer before the signs of it goin' to hell started."

Buffy accepted this with some sort of bleary impatience. "Thank you. Can you do it again?"

"What?" _Hold her again?_

If she'd been more alert she'd have been more inhibited. Survival makes mincemeat of a lot of hesitancies and conventional niceties. Buffy thrust her arms out and he automatically embraced her. Only this time, they were face to face, and both sets of eyes were open, and mostly aware.

 _We kissed. He loves me. Saves me this time, so I can keep saving everything, everyone else._

"Love you." It was not a good time to tell her. This was about security and safety, and love- between them anyway- was not that. At least not to her, because he'd messed up so badly before in telling her. "I know I shouldn't tell you when you're jus' wakin' up and I'm supposed to jus' be keepin' you safe while you sleep. But I thought… you might need it. Or want it."

She considered. "What's it like?"

"What's what like?"

"When you love me."

Spike didn't have a planned answer to that, never figured she'd ask him that particular question. Words just tumbled out. "It's however you want it to be, need it to be."

The other guys- it was what they wanted. Wanted to leave, wanted normal, wanted just one night, wanted… not her. Not about her. "What about what you want?" She slurred slightly.

"When you're in love with someone- the way I am with you…" He watched her eyes widen ever so slightly as she caught the nuance of "in love", "that's all you need or want. Is them. That's all I want and need. Is you. To get what you need and what you want, an' I wanna be the one to give it. That's- that's what it's like, Buffy."

 _Not about him. Only it is._

 _He was right. Doesn_ _'t love me the way they do. Loves me different._

 _Oh my God. Spike_ loves _me._

"Slayer?" She just flashed a look of panic at him, but not fear, simple frantic adrenaline.

"Thank you."

For what, he wanted to ask, but asking someone broken to define gratitude isn't as important as feeling joy they have some, aimed at you. "Welcome, Luv."

"You were right. I want it, need it. Need someone who does what you do. Loves… like you do." Her eyelids were heavy, the eyes still faintly starry underneath them, looking at him differently.

He blinked. "You're letting me. Love you?" His broken heart cemented back together, felt wings sprout from the reconstructed whole, little bursts of hope stinging him.

"Is that what I'm doing?"

Hope quietly fluttered to a halt. _She's not sure. How could she be? With all that's happening now, and all that happened before, she and I have a buggered up idea of love to begin with. I'm such a fool for her, such a bloody fool, full stop._ "I can't answer for you."

"I mean, I think- I guess I need someone to." _I just don't know how to let someone. Maybe I forgot how. Maybe I'm afraid it'll just hurt more, it' always hurts more. Hurts enough already._

"Yeah, well, every one of your little crew loves you, even if they screwed up."

"Not like you." She squinted. "They want me to be back to normal, they want me to fight. You just want me to- to do what I want to do. Not fight. Not even forgive if I can't."

"That's right, I know I don't deserve-"

"Shhh." She waved him softly to silence. "You said you loved me. You didn't ask _me_ to love _you_."

Spike smiled sadly. "I know. I'm the one who's sure when I'm awake, Buffy. You lovin' me that's what _I_ dream about."

"You show up in mine. I show up in yours. And in realities, too."

"I'm important to you, maybe. Or just part of the packaging around here."

Buffy nodded first, then shook her head. "Right about the first part. Wrong about the second." There was a moment of half-smiles and silence.

Spike thought she might drift off again, but instead she spoke quietly.

"You want to show me now? You can show me now, so I know what it looks like."

"What- me lovin' you-looks like?" He wanted this spelled out. And he wanted her to be a hell of a lot more alert and making a damn sight more sense.

His voice was questioning and pointed, yet Buffy only found this soothing. Non-threatening. She'd put him down, hundreds of times, about him never being anything she was afraid of, but she realized that had been mocking, and this thought was comforting. _He's- gentle? around me. But he's not weak. One heck of a fighter, if you think about how hard this battle is… to just stay here is hard enough. To stay here while you love someone who you thought would never come back- been there. Only I tried to move on, and he tries to hang on, hang on for two._

 _I never realized how strong he was. Maybe he wasn_ _'t until there was me._ That gave her a strangely warm feeling, a feeling faintly associated with her time in heaven. An odd little glow that she didn't understand.

"I don't know this stuff." She spoke in a voice that was somehow far away, despite lying in his arms, whispering inches from his lips. "You loved me, but you didn't think I loved you back."

"I know you don't." _Yet. If ever._

Agreement didn't come. Nor denial. "How do you do it? Why do it?"

A laughing, exasperated sigh escaped him. "Because you're who I _love_ , Slayer. You're what I love, what I - believe in. You're worth all the love an' devotion I got. It doesn't matter in the equation if you love me back, what matters is I still get to love you." His voice was raspy, breaking by the end, until it was like a shadow of smoke, barely there, just a hint of something you might miss if you're not looking, or in this case listening. "That's somethin' doesn't change if you're livin' or dead, wakin' or dreamin'. That's how I can do it. Love doesn't have to change."

It shocked him to see a sudden true smile, a bright, alive smile, that went all the way up to her eyes, as something clicked, a master lock finding the final tumbler falling into place. "It doesn't change!"

"I just said that, yeah." He assured her genuinely.

"No! No!" She grabbed his shoulders and clamped on, like she was pulling herself up, out of the black waters drowning her inside. "Everything changes, and hurts, and I couldn't- I can't find a way to keep track." A frantic babble, looking into his eyes to see if there was understanding, and miraculously there was. Yet, she expected it, expected no less. "It doesn't change. I can- I mean- if you don't mind, I can…" _No. Not me. It's not only me involved_. " _You_ can keep me from spinning out of control, Spike. Losing ground, losing touch. You're a - a - what's the thing that never changes in the science experiment?"

In the deepest dark moments, a ray of her old sunshine shone through, made him swallow a laugh as well as blink back a tear. "That'd be a constant, Precious."

"You can be my constant." She said gratefully, before she stopped her babbling and kissed him, long and deep, sharing her relief.

"I can be. I will be." He promised her when he found his lips free again.

"I'm - I'm the part that changes- the part that might blow up or fizzle out." Buffy whispered a warning, but knew that the danger wouldn't bother him.

"That doesn't matter, as long as I'm still there. It means- it means things aren't over." His hands came up and cupped her face, forehead bumping forehead. "I'll hold you steady, I'll hold on."

Another kiss that devoured him, consumed her, initiated by her as if it were some sort of exercise in rejoining the living. Something she could feel, unmistakably, tangibly feel.

"Sweetheart, stop." He pushed her back with a gentle hand as her kisses turned more hungry, as he lost control of his hands and where they were wandering.

"I don't want to. Want this. It's- solid." She touched his chest, his shoulders, ending at his lean sculptured upper arm. "Can I just- can we just, to feel? I need to feel. I need to - to do _something_ , Spike."

To do what? What do you want this to be? He wanted answers and concrete definitions, explanations of what this would be to her, be between them.

 _But you don't love her like that. She says she wants, she says she needs, and you give it, you get it for her, do it for her. So don't push her with questions and hurt the brain- just look out for the heart._ "We can do whatever you want, Buffy. If you can tell me you're sure you're okay with it. Okay with it for right now, I'm not askin' you to say it's _always_ what you'll want… I never want to hurt you again. I don't want somethin' I do to love you to end up hurtin' you."

Another hungry launch at him, the desperation of a fractured soul and delirious mind finding something solid to cling to. "Everything hurts."

"Not me!" He braced himself to push her away, denying what his body wanted, what his heart and mind wanted on some level as well.

"That's right. Not you." She nodded gratefully, gasping down air and swallowing tears that seemed to spring up in this emotional cocktail she found herself in. "You didn't ask for this. I asked for this. I missed you, remember?"

"Yeah…" He didn't breathe, but the muscles in him seemed to mimic her breathing, unsteady clenches, desire starting to reach the point where it would earn physical reactions.

"Well- here we are. Sweetest friend." She echoed the words of the song he'd sung to her. "You won't make me hurt. You would let me have it all."

"Do you realize, Buffy, that if you- if you do this, you give me all of _you_ , even for a little while?"

What a scary thought. And then- not scary at all. _Giving Spike all of me. Letting him hold me together, and feel loved and I can trust him, that it won't change._

 _That_ _'s so much to ask. I know what it feels like to get asked big things all the time._ "I want you to have all of me- for a little while. And for longer. I don't want anything to change, but I want- I know, that it changes for us."

"That's right. So think hard. I know it's not easy now." _Not easy to say this, when she keeps climbing up me, needy eyes, soft body, and - and I love her._

"It doesn't change what you are to me. Doesn't make it any less. I hope- I hope it makes it more. That somehow, even when I'm broken, I can help fix you." She fumbled in her explanation. "'Cause you hurt. And your dreams leave you all messed up, just like mine, even though yours are good ones." _It's the waking up that kills him. It's the falling asleep that kills me. Maybe if we just stay here, in bed, where it's warm and kind of between sleeping and waking, just resting, just loving, both of us could be okay_. "People ask too much of people like us…"

 _She puts me in the same category as herself?_ He stroked her hair back. "Nothing is too much from you." Spike softly pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Then maybe you can give me what I want, if it's not too much?"

He fell into her, on top of her, her on top of him, minds blanking out while bodies could take over.

"If this is a dream- don't wake me." Spike whispered, a plea he knew was selfish.

She arched up under him and held on as things started to move past kissing. "I won't. I'll stay right here in it with you." She gripped his arms, eyes wide, breathing picking up. "Holding on."

He nodded, hands mimicking hers. "Holding on."

* * *

 _To be concluded…_


	3. Chapter 3

**Walking in Dreams**

 **by Sweetprincipale**

 _Early season 6. Buffy's body comes back in one piece, her mind a little less stable. Uncertain of reality, a sleep-deprived Slayer finds one thing she can cling to, waking or dreaming. Plenty of angst and stream-of-very-tangled-thought to begin with, but it has a sweet Spuffy ending._

 _Author_ _'_ _s Note:_ _This section also picks up immediately following the last installment._

 _Author's Second Note: Thank you to those of you patiently waiting for more updates to Union, Timeless, and Waiting- Getting closer to posting updates! No abandoning pieces here. Just a brand new baby in the house and it takes me about four days to write one paragraph. Hang in there, and keep sending the encouragement, it does help._

 _Dedicated to: WriterDragonfly, AGriffinWriter, Illusera, fiz, Ginar369, Illusera, TessLouise, ginger0826, Rinso, and vampyre-lover._

 _Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

 **Part** **III**

When he dreamed of this moment, and it had been often, there were several variations, and he had privately categorized them. There was "fevered fucking", the earliest fantasy, the kind he wouldn't admit was really about her, it was just another dream, another mental outlet with a person his brain picked at random. Strictly physical, a fight with sex basically, hard, primal. "Satisfying shagging", the midway point of his fantasies, he knew it was about her, the body he craved, and it was about getting it, getting her. Then, in quick succession, "Sex with the Slayer", dreams about some sort of connection turning friendly and carnal, gave way to the gold standard- "Making Love to Buffy". Love was key, the sex was secondary. After those dreams he didn't wake up hard, or spent, he woke up aching like he'd been punched in the chest repeatedly. Heartache, strong enough to feel in mind and body. "I love you" was an ostinato in the background, her eyes and her face were all the scenery he needed.

Now, reality took the place of fantasies. It wasn't like any of those dreams, wasn't one of his dreams come true. _Reality spins everything, but love's the constant- so it'll be all right in the end. If she's all right now, and then, and always, as long as I have her._ His words rasped out between the sear of kisses, "Got you. I got you."

"I know." Her fingers dug in, latched on. Dragged down hard, left red welts and tiny open trails as heads thrashed together, nothing drastic and romance-novel-y, just this feeling of- being connected. Tethered to him and knowing he was just as desperately clinging to her. The thrashes weren't "throes of passion" just a continual checking, breaking long kisses, or short ones, to look in eyes, to speak reassurances. _Dizzy. That's what it is. The world's spinning and I'm going to fall off. Falling…_

She let go of his shoulders and let herself go limp, back on the mattress, but expecting to feel that weightlessness that at the same time was so heavy, a dreaded feeling of another fatal fall.

He moved with her, hips down, head swooping, hands digging in. "You're with me. Not letting you go anywhere."

That could be so threatening, or so comforting. She tensed briefly, and found his eyes. Overflowing eyes that were intense blue, a dark electricity in them, sparking two dead things back to life.

She dug her hands in again.

* * *

She tried to feel and hear, and to close herself off in turns He wasn't letting her do that, without even trying. Too much in her head and in her body. She knew she was awake, and she knew she wouldn't be going "home", leaving him, leaving this world anytime soon. It was nice to have a place to scream her frustration out and have a partner pound into her and let her pound into him, trying to make that helpless rage go away. She left him bloodied, her nails made desperate patterns over his back and arms, and he just laid his head back and took it gratefully. It was a blessing not to have to apologize.

* * *

He thought he'd be more aware of her body. The hidden parts he wanted to see, the private show he'd love to have, getting a glimpse of all the idealized parts he and his hand often considered. Couldn't remember a thing but her face, the thud of her heart and the taste of tears and sweat running down her throat. No blood, no biting. Well, no blood of _hers_. He was bearing plenty of her artwork, proof that she was holding on, and he loved it. When he felt warmth and dampness at his waist, he didn't look down, he looked up, watching her face.

Buffy's eyes were closed, head back, panting.

"Look at me."

She obeyed. Nodded, breath held, body stiff.

Spike shook away her nod. "Not until you breathe. It's not gonna hurt, you don't gotta- don't have to brace yourself." He petted her hair back, cupped her face. "We don't even have to do that, you know. Love's not about-"

Her hand gripped the nape of his neck and slammed her lips up into his, tongue invaded, muffling her moan as his words died a sudden death.

Buffy loved it, right then. The look on his face of pure awe, pure joy, and this- this new, unknown _thing_. She'd never seen it before. From anyone.

 _That's what it looks like, when he loves me._ "I see you." She gasped when she could speak, voice low and shaking, and hoped he understood.

"I see you too." The broken, the brave, the beautiful, all in one face. Worn looking and devoid of make up and still simply the most gorgeous sight he'd ever seen. "I love you."

The fighter, the foe-turned-friend, all the sharp, smug features gone soft. "I won't make you hurt." That was the closest she could get to an expression of love.

He accepted it gladly.

* * *

Hard and instinctual, nothing too practiced or beautiful, but smoothly, steadily driving them to a finish.

 _I love you_ , he said so many times, sometimes the emphasis on I, or you, or love, trying to let her know there was love for her left, and that he could give it, and that it was for her. The last one, the one he was holding onto, was a plea that meant not to fade away from him when this was done. "I love you, Buffy." A cracked grunt as his hips hammered. She heard herself calling his name and felt her raw insides leaking warmth before receiving his, sitting halfway up with him still buried inside her.

She shuddered down, wide eyed and slack jawed, and he toppled after her, wrecked and happy to sacrifice the strength and energy on her behalf.

"You're amazing." He told her because he meant it, but the sex wasn't uppermost in his mind. _Bloody hell- I just had sex with_ Buffy.

 _Yeah, but better- I gave her what she wanted, needed. She didn_ _'t let me go. No one's hurt._

 _I hope._ "You okay?"

She swallowed. There were no words where there used to be. There had been a post-sex/ afterglow stuff/cuddling box in her brain once, and death and pain had taken it out. She just knew she wanted to do it again. The feeling, the loving, the not being lost or let go. She wanted to do it a million times again until she slept and woke up with a clear head, until the good feelings he gave her saturated her being and could stave off whatever crap the world was getting ready to aim her way.

"Can we? Again?" She murmured, fingertips clutching the sheet over her naked body, then letting it go to find his arm. His arm that was a red and white road map of her rejoining the world. With him, she didn't need to apologize- not marks of pain, marks of all he asked, all she could give, her attempt to hold on.

"Now?" Spike sounded surprised but pleased.

If anything left in the world could surprise her, she might've shared his disbelief. As it was, she just nodded in response. "Mmhmm. Until I fall asleep. Until I'm tired like this, so I can sleep for real."

The pleasure escaped from his eye, but he blinked and the disappointment vanished, masked. _Now she's sure this isn't a dream, and I can help keep her steady, she's ready to rest. That's good. Needs it. And if this is just something she uses to tire her out, well- no, it's not how I'd like things to go. But it's what she wants, and I can give it to her._ "Sure, Slayer." He smiled easily and let his eyes wander down her body for the first time, visual accelerant to get himself ready for another round. God, she was beautiful. She wanted him to do something, something he could succeed in giving.

 _"_ Want it to tire you out?" He gave her a gentle, crooked grin. "I could do that. If you really want it to be like that." _Don't question it. You don't get to force your feelings onto her. You did that before, screwed up before, and her lot are doin' it now, screwin' up again._ He twitched his smile a notch brighter, reached for her. "Yeah, we can do that. Make it intense, Luv. Have you exhausted and snoozin' away in thirty minutes or less." He hoped no trace of sadness or disappointment lingered in his eyes.

That was tempting, by definition, intense pleasure until she found herself with an un-ignorable tired brain and sleep stealing over her. But that wasn't what she meant. Or wanted. "No… I don't think I want it like - intense. Just to sleep. I _want_ to sleep. I do. I want to fall asleep feeling that- what I just felt. It was good!" She hastily declared, watching his face go from concerned to puzzled. "Fall asleep feeling you with me. Being with me. Loving me." She swallowed a sudden blockage in her throat, voice coming out papery and cracked. "In heaven you're never tired. In heaven you always feel loved. I miss the feeling way more than I miss getting sleep."

The magnitude of her words, well, one word, hit him hard. "Heaven. Buffy…" _Heaven is the ultimate reward, the final rest of all that's holy. She was my angel here, an angel for real up there._

 _They tore off her wings._ A faint, protective growl started in his chest.

"Shh." She forestalled any comments, any further pity, even though her own eyes were damp, maybe even leaking telltale drops. Why do you think I hope I'm dreaming? That I'll wake up and be back there? Where you're always warm, and safe, and loved." Blue sapphires glinted and glossed over as he nodded. "Or I can't tell if I'm in a nightmare or not, with all- with all the stuff that's here, even the good stuff, seems pretty terrible once you- once you've had something better."

Damn his eyes, as his hard blinks failed to hold back tears. Overflowed, as they'd done too many times tonight. He didn't care. No pride left. Don't say anything to make it worse… He coughed. "Understood. We don't have to talk about it." He pulled lightly on her arm, pasting a melancholy yet comforting grin in place, "You come here, and I'll give you lukewarm, safe, and loved. For as long as you want."

She nodded in relief, and came easily to him, chest to chest, her hands stroking his sides gently this time, no longer so frenzied in her need to feel something solid. "What you give me- it's the closest I've found to what I lost. That's something right?"

 _She still tries so hard. To fight and give it her all, even when, by comparison, there's nothing left._ "I love you." It burst out of him easily, a reflexive reaction when his heart seemed to grow as it found one more moment, one more reason he truly was in love with her.

"Thanks, Spike. I… I don't know - all my feelings yet. But I love that you're doing this." _I love him for this- and that's not the same as loving him. But maybe one day it leads to that?_

 _It leads to me thinking about days after this one and not hating the thought, so that_ _'s something_. "Do it some more?"

"Of course. Yours for the asking- always."

* * *

The same, but different. More aware of each other now, of bodies and touches. It made it more real, more difficult- and the climax long, fractured and finally explosive. It's all painful, scary, and finally wonderful. Not Spike, he was nothing but pleasure and good touches, sweet, loving words. Trying to use her heart and head again, that was the frightening, intense part. She'd thought the second time would be easier, a practiced repeat of the first. Thought she'd be more asleep, but instead she found herself waking up, in several ways.

The dream-like haze fully broke. The world was here, or it always had been, and she was well and truly returned to it. Her life continued to be filled with tragedy and battles, a terrifying place of fear and duty, and she lacked the feeling of trust she'd had for the ones who used to help her through those pains and fears.

With one warm, extremely tender, loving exception, one soft haven left for her. _Don't let it get away._

* * *

"Thank you." She breathed out at the end of this second round. "Spike."

"Welcome, Beautiful." He traced her shoulder to her fingers with a reverent hand, but a friendly smile.

 _The real Spike. The one I'm waking up to find._ "Spike, I- " _Say it. I should say it. I don't want this to end._

 _I don_ _'t think he'll leave if I can't say things, do things._ _This isn't normal, and he gets I can't do normal right now._ "Spike…" She grabbed the hand that was leaving her side and snatched back. Held it to her cheek and breathed out shakily. Her eyes beseeched him for one more favor. _Get what I wish I could give, but maybe never can. At least not say, or even think right now._

His heart was already stopped. So now it simply seemed to be restarted, shocked out of voice at her silent declaration. And her thanks. As if he should not be bowed to the ground in gratitude for every second of tonight.

He swallowed. all these long sonnets of undying love could come flooding out- and overwhelm her, and he'd said so much already. "Buffy." He smiled and nodded, patting her hand on his. "Love you. You feelin' better? Ready to sleep?"

"Mmhm. Sleepier. Good sleepy." She nodded.

"Because y'know, Slayer, I could do this again. I could do this forever." He felt a bit sleepy himself, restful. "Anyway, next time I can make it better for you." He stroked her hair, eyes moving away, then back. "Didn't really expect this- not that I'm complaining. Jus' sayin' now that I know… yeah. I can do this better next time."

"Sounds good." _So it doesn't end. Like a nightmare or the good dream… all things have to end. No-_ change. _Spike and I didn't end, we just changed, and I like it. I think._ She yawned suddenly. " Sorry."

"Good sign if you ask me." He grinned. "Sleep. Mind if I join you? I'll still wake you up if you need it."

" 'Kay." _Yes. Join me, hang on to me, come with me on all these head trips. Keep waking me up to wherever this is, where it's still safe, and warm, and I'm loved._

* * *

She slept, long and deep. This time there were no dreams to walk in, nothing confusing or uncertain, simply a restful oblivion, earned because the waking world had claimed her one more time, in a cruel twist of providence and well-intentioned friends.

She fell into the dark, knowing the light would find her shortly, bring her back awake, back to this life, but there was no more fear as she realized something in her last waking moments.

 _I did earn it- no matter what they did to me, do to me._ She gripped his lukewarm forearm _. At least Heaven lets you keep what you lost, what they tried to take. You just might have to get it from someplace new._

* * *

"Slayer. Buffy? It's almost daylight." Spike woke up and after staring down at her for a few minutes, taking in the sight of her lying in his arms, her breathing even, her face peaceful, he forced himself to break into her sleep. Afraid to wake her, because even after all they'd poured out in one weird, fractured, down-the-effin'-rabbit-hole of the night, he didn't know what would happen "for real" when the day dawned.

Buffy slowly opened her eyes. "Spike?"

"Yeah." He could only manage one word, throat going tense.

"What time is it?"

At least she doesn't sound panicked or confused, Spike thought as he let out a sigh. "Not sure. I can just feel the day comin'."

Yes. She knew that feeling, she could feel it now, and she'd been feeling it for the past several days. Each morning arrived with a heavier dread, more sickening sorrow and desperation.

This morning she just felt- hungry. That was new. As she came more fully awake there came a nagging sense of obligation that she'd better get back to the house before creating worry when the others realized she wasn't there.

"Can you come h- can you come with me?"

Spike almost fell off the bed in shock. "Of course I can!"

"If I'm going to get through- _this_ ," Buffy gestured vaguely all around her, indicating "the world, life itself", "you kind of have to. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not going to 'bounce back' right away. I need… someone to keep me from crashing." She whispered, imagery from last night's dream trickling through her mind.

"I told you, anything I can give, anything you need." He was already reaching for the clothes that were haphazardly discarded a few hours ago. "I can walk you home. D'you want me to stay for a-"

"It didn't feel right. Like home." Buffy interrupted, eyes focused inward, a look of concentration on her face. "It was supposed to. Like I never left- but it didn't feel that way." She trailed off. After a second's pause she lifted her head and stared into his eyes seriously. "With you- things feel better."

"I'm glad." He said softly.

"We can come back here later?"

" _We will do whatever you bloody need,_ Slayer." He gripped her shoulders with sudden fierceness, biting off words. "Hear me on that." _There's a "we". She wants me with her. Still._ "I can't believe you have to ask me- you _don't_ have to ask me. Honestly, Luv."

She believed him. She had lost faith in the others, but for some reason regained it in him, safer and stronger in his arms. "I need you to help me deal with the 'real world' out there. And maybe this place can be where I come when I want to escape the reality. As long as you're with me, I get the good feeling, kind of- kind of like what I'm missing." She ducked her head, not shy, only wary to open herself up once more.

"I'll go with you wherever. Face the real world by day, and by night, I'll walk with you in your dreams." Spike promised, heart swelling enough to release some of the poetic words trapped inside.

Buffy believed him. She took his hand and heaven somehow seemed a little closer.

* * *

Sweet dreams, Readers, and good wishes for your walks through the harsh realities of the day.


End file.
